March 15, 1992
by sportsnightnut
Summary: Written for sweetjamielee's "Everything Changes" 2014 Ficathon. A Georgetown-era "fix-it" fic.


**A/N:** Entry for sweetjamielee's "Everything Changes" 2014 Ficathon over at LiveJournal. :)

Prompt, from Anon: "Alicia/Will: Peter gets caught with his pants down with Alicia's roommate in the first year of law school, so she asks her best friend if she can move in to his empty second room, and why would Will say anything except yes? Georgetown fix-it fic prompt, because I wish Alicia had figured Peter out before she married him."

(I wish that, too. So that's why I wrote this.)

Enjoy!

* * *

It's Sunday afternoon-the afternoon of March 15, to be exact-and Will realizes he hasn't seen his best friend all weekend.

He calls, but she doesn't pick up, so he decides to walk over to her apartment and see if she's home.

He saw her last on Friday night, at the pre-St. Patrick's Day party the 1Ls put on. She'd been there, in a flattering emerald green dress, Peter standing next to her with his hand on the small of her back.

It's just that Peter doesn't deserve her, mostly because he doesn't realize how lucky he is to be dating the most beautiful girl at Georgetown. Will sees him, flirting with random blondes when Alicia isn't near, and Will doesn't really think it means anything. It's just that Peter's a jackass, and Alicia is blind to it.

Will sort of understands-Peter's got that politician look about him, a look that suggests he's a safe, solid decision in terms of a boyfriend. He'll be rich someday in the not-too-distant future, and they can live in a fancy house somewhere and Alicia can stand next to him, smiling as he delivers bullshit speeches.

It's just that those things don't really describe Alicia, because she hates snobby rich people and she doesn't like standing on the sidelines of anything. She likes to be involved, included, right in the middle of it all. And if she stays with Peter, she'll lose her independence, her voice, and everything that makes her Alicia.

Will sighs, audibly, and sticks his hands in his pockets. It's mid-March, and D.C. hasn't gotten the memo that it's about to be spring, because it's _freezing_ outside. He can practically see his breath as he walks, and he decides to duck into the little coffee shop nearest her building to grab hot chocolates.

He reaches Alicia's door about ten minutes later and knocks lightly with one knuckle, his hands occupied with the hot chocolate. He hears some shuffling in the background, and it's just a few seconds before she opens the door.

Will is a little taken aback at the sight in front of him.

Alicia's wearing leggings and an oversized t-shirt, which he recognizes as her usual pajamas. Her hair is pulled back into a smooth, sleek ponytail, and her eyes are a little puffy and bloodshot. If you didn't look closely, you might not be able to tell that something was wrong, but Will Gardner is Alicia Cavanaugh's best friend, so of _course_ he knows something is wrong.

Behind her are cardboard moving boxes, scattered haphazardly around the room and, he guesses, the apartment. He realizes most of the things that make this apartment Alicia's are gone: her collection of classics from the bookshelf, the fuzzy blanket from the couch, the photos from the end table. Most of what's left appears to be her roommate's.

Will gets a sinking feeling in his stomach as he puts the pieces together, but he waits for Alicia to speak to confirm his suspicions.

"Peter, um..." she starts, biting her lip, and he can see she's trying not to cry.

And then she turns furious.

"That fucking _sonofabitch_ slept with fucking _Carrie_," she hisses, and Will thinks this must be the first time she's said those words out loud. "He slept with my fucking _roommate_. I came home from the library last night and they were _here_, on the goddamn couch, in _my_ apartment. He said it didn't _mean anything_, but I don't fucking care."

Will's pretty sure Alicia has never said "fuck" that many times in the span of thirty seconds.

Alicia steps aside to let him enter, and she shuts the door behind them while he sets the hot chocolates down on the kitchen counter. She continues packing her things, starting to pull pots and pans out of the kitchen cabinets. "Maybe I should have seen it coming. I don't know. She's apparently more interesting than me. Definitely prettier than me. Probably better at fucking him than me." She picks up a glass pie plate, but her hand is trembling and it she drops it, watching it shatter on the tile.

Will rushes over, helping her out of the kitchen so she doesn't step on any glass. "Sit," he instructs her as he hands her the hot chocolate. She glances sideways at the couch, and he remembers what she just told him about the couch. "Go sit on your bed. I'll take care of this. And drink that," he adds, nodding toward the hot chocolate.

After Will has cleaned up the kitchen, he goes to her bedroom, which is completely empty except for her bed and a few boxes. It's clear she didn't sleep last night and has been packing for the past 12 hours.

He takes the hot chocolate from her and sets it atop a cardboard box before climbing onto the bed with her. She leans into him as he wraps his arms around her, and he rubs her back in a methodical up-and-down motion with his hand as she cries into his chest.

"Why wasn't I good enough?" she mumbles through her tears, and Will is now the furious one, unable to believe that Peter could hurt Alicia-_his_ Alicia-in this way.

"Leesh, you can't think that way," he answers quietly. "Peter Florrick is a jackass, and you deserve better."

"You're just saying that," she counters.

"Never," Will responds, and she buries her face a little deeper into his sweatshirt.

"Why didn't you say something before?" she asks, and Will isn't sure how to answer that.

"You loved him," he finally says. "I just...I figured there was a reason. And I figured you knew your relationship better than I did."

Alicia nods into his chest, accepting his answer. "Next time, tell me that before I get my heart broken, okay?" she requests, and Will nods in agreement.

(Of course, there won't be a "next time," and Will knows this, because now that he has Alicia in his arms, he's never letting her go.)

"So, um...did you ever find a roommate to replace Nate? Because, well, I don't really have a place to live anymore..." Alicia trails off. She pulls away from Will just slightly to wipe away the tears with the back of her hand.

"Yes," he answers. "You."

She smiles, for the first time all day, and Will gets that warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest that seems to happen every time she smiles.

"Are you sure? Because..."

Will puts a finger to Alicia's lips to silence her. "Yes. Now let's finish packing up your stuff and get it over to my place. _Our_ place," he corrects himself, and they both smile, liking the way that sounds.

He jumps off the bed and she jumps down after him, immediately wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Thank you," Alicia whispers.

"Anytime," Will whispers back.

And he means it.


End file.
